


Leon Is

by nandonman



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Attempt at writing from Elliot's POV, M/M, MM pov, Set during fuck knows when, quick one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:13:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25298941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nandonman/pseuds/nandonman
Summary: I literally don't know what I'm doing but I hope you enjoyed!! <3
Relationships: Elliot Alderson/Leon
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	Leon Is

It was like staring down a lethal cliff, or watching a trainwreck. Elliot just couldn’t look away.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked out his window, if not to make sure he wasn’t followed home. And yet now he was glued to it, sitting in the chair he’d rolled over from his desk, what was originally an impulsive check up becoming something almost . . . giddy. A risk.

And yet Elliot’s heart was still. He was still.

Rain drizzled against the window pane and fell onto the street below. Few people were out this late, although that would only worsen Elliot’s anxiety about being seen. If it were any other night, at least.

For now, he found himself sitting in relative peace--or, not  _ peace _ . A trance.

Behind him, he heard Flipper’s collar rattle as she shifted in her sleep.

This time, there were no words for him to speak. There was nothing to say to his Friend because there was too much he needed to say.

Images filled his mind.

Monopoly masks, keyboards with fingerprints showing in the light. The rain outside his window. Mr. Robot--what was that?--back to rain again. A flicker of movement outside his window. Nothing moves, everything is dead around him. Still. Solitude.

He’s alone again.

Elliot closes his eyes, and he notices how stiff his shoulders have become. He tries to relax them, to lean back in his chair. He takes a breath and focuses on what needs to be done. The next step. There’s always a next step.

Something happens. People get hurt. He has to make a decision. Repeat.

Elliot clenches his fists, if only to remind himself of the feeling, and he sees color behind his eyes.

_ I need something. I need something to focus on. _

He felt like he was coming down. His thoughts were jumbled, floating words lapsing into each other and flying just past his reach. He felt like gravity was fighting him.

_ Leon. _

He didn’t know where the thought came from. It wasn’t him, was it?

_ Was it you? _

His friend had never spoken before to him. It couldn’t be them. The prompting came from nothing in particular, which should have turned him off of the idea, but Elliot found himself reflecting on the subject at hand without pause.

It was amazing what short amount of time he was in prison, considering how much of a mark it left on him. He still thought about those days spent in someone else’s routine, constantly fighting himself and his own captivity--not of the prison itself but of the authoritative thumb of the men who looked after those sent there. The guards. People like Ray.

But people like impatient guards who’d seen too many bodies to give a shit about any of them anymore became much easier to deal with knowing he wasn’t alone.

Leon had started off as a guy who seemed to not know how to read a room when he sat down by Elliot at lunch one day. Then, he became the guy who obviously intended to disregard Elliot’s lack of reciprocated attention, and soon, he was his friend.

Elliot’s eyes flicker open as Flipper stands from her spot on the bed and jumps down. He hears lapping of water, then paws padding a few feet until she’s jumping back onto his sheets.

Sometimes Elliot wonders what would have happened if he’d pursued his feelings, or at least tried in some way to stay in contact with Leon.

Would they have pulled the time out of their days to see each other? Was he worth that to him?

Elliot blinked.

He could almost feel the shitty jumpsuit again. He could see Leon in front of him, looking him in the eyes as his head is tilted back, philosophic ramblings spewing from his lips.

Dreads moving past his cheek as he ducks his head, asking Elliot,  _ you there, cuz? You look lost. _

Elliot would nod, and Leon would trust him, just keep going on with his take or taking a bite to eat. He never pushed. Just felt, and went with it.

Swallowing, Elliot let his thoughts wander further. Tightening his grip on the leash around his mind, he saw Leon beside him, arm wrapped around his shoulder as they sat together on his prison bed--no, his real bed. He felt fingers brushing against his collar bone, smelt the weed on Leon’s breath as he talked about nothing in particular.

Ellliot would lean against him and maybe close his eyes. He wouldn’t flinch away when he feels Leon looking at him, nor would he protest when Leon moves his thumb to wipe at his cheek.

He wouldn’t move away if Leon kissed him.

And there it is.

_ The root of the problem _ , says Mr. Robot.

And he’s right. Leon is the root.

Elliot watches as a car drives by his window, its headlights lighting up the street and reflecting in the drops on his window.

He misses him.

**Author's Note:**

> I literally don't know what I'm doing but I hope you enjoyed!! <3


End file.
